Thoughts on a Shift Interrupted
by detective-sweetheart
Summary: In the aftermath of their own interruptions, there are all the emotions that they know how to deal with. In the aftermath of the department's, there is nothing but the feeling of being suddenly, completely lost.


**A/N: More of my muse deciding it wants Kay and Meldrick together (don't ask). H:LOTS isn't mine. Set after Gee's last line in "Strangers and Other Partners". **

* * *

It is exactly 12:12 on a hotter-than-hell summer night in Baltimore when it finally manages to hit them both.

In the morning, the department will implement the rotation schedule that apparently, they have been planning for a while now, and the fate of the shift as both of them know it will be up in the air. There is, for once, nothing that Gee can do about it, and the entire shift seems to know it, yet the delayed reactions are not really that much of a surprise. None of them want to leave, of course, but because of the department, now, none of them really have a choice.

Sweat caused by the heat and humidity outside causes Kay's hair to stick to her face, and the back of her neck, but she does nothing about it, preferring to just lie there where she is.

The window is open, and there's somewhat of a breeze every now and then, but then again, this is Baltimore, and any relief that might come is short-lived, as always. Beside her, Meldrick is half-asleep, shirtless and silent, allowing her to hear everything that's going on outside. She can hear the sounds of kids playing in the street below the apartment building, and wonders how they can stand to move.

She can also hear the sound of Meldrick's breathing. After a while, she pokes at him.

"You awake?"

* * *

He doesn't open his eyes, but instead nods, briefly, indicating that he is, and that whatever she has to say, he'll be listening, even if it doesn't look like he is.

"What do you think about this whole rotation thing?" Kay asks, and a low sigh escapes Meldrick at this, but he still doesn't open his eyes.

"Don't like it," he says, and then, "Don't make any sense. Why the hell split up units that already know how to work together?"

Kay rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling. "Maybe they want to give us a chance to meet other people."

The double meaning of this is not at all lost on Meldrick. He opens an eye to look at her. She smirks.

"That's not really what I meant, but hey, if that's what you were thinking…"

Meldrick shakes his head, half-amused by this. "That's not what I was thinking," he replies. "I just don't get what they think they're gonna accomplish, y'know?"

* * *

And she does know, because she's wondering the exact same thing. She pushes her hair back out of her face, finally, and reaches over to the bedside table for a rubber band that isn't there. After a futile search that really lasts all of a few seconds, she gives up, and pushes her hair out of her face again.

"I'm really startin' to hate this weather," she mutters, more to herself than to Meldrick, who bites back a laugh and shakes his head again.

"Could be worse," he says, and when Kay looks at him with raised eyebrows, "It could be snowing."

"True, but at least we wouldn't feel like we were baking in an oven."

"More like turning into human popsicles in a freezer. I hate winters in this place. Too damn cold."

Kay closes her eyes, hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. "You say that every year, and yet you're still here."

"Well, it ain't like I got anyplace else to go."

* * *

Of course, this isn't exactly true; at present, they are both sprawled out across Kay's bed, because it's the middle of the night, and neither of them want to move. He could get up and leave if he wanted to, but he doesn't.

"You know, it occurs to me that even if the department sends on out of Homicide, ain't like we're never gonna come back," he remarks finally. Kay gives a derisive snort.

"Leave it to them to find a way to keep us where we are after they get us out," she says, half-sarcastically. "The brass are always trying to get one over on us. You know that."

And they are, too, Meldrick muses, because that's just the way it works. They were supposed to promote Gee when the last captain of Homicide left, and instead, they promoted Russert. And they were supposed to promote him again, after Russert was busted back down to detective, but then Gaffney took the position.

"You don't think any of us will end up back, do you?" he asks, and Kay shakes her head in reply.

"No," she says. "That's what scares me. We just…I don't know, Meldrick. We just…_belong_ there, y'know?"

She has a point. Meldrick really doubts that anyone besides himself, Gee, and the rest of the murder police will be able to see this point.

* * *

What they're going to do about it, neither of them know.

But the possibility of the shift being split has somewhat of a different meaning for them, because if one of them gets rotated out, well, then…The tentative relationship they already have will be put that much farther onto shaky ground.

"Yeah, I guess we do," he says, jokingly now. "Ain't nobody else want us around. Guess the department feels like they better do something about it."

Kay rolls her eyes. "If they don't want us around, it's on them," she says. "We're all paid to solve crimes. One unit's no better than the other."

This, of course, is not to say that she doesn't hold the first shift in a higher regard than she does any of the other units, but at the same time, she is well aware that without other units, there would hardly be a police department.

The BCPD cannot exist on Homicide alone, even though Baltimore _is_ the city that bleeds.

"Maybe this is their way of taking blood without actually taking it," says Meldrick, finally. "Causing a change without anyone getting hurt."

* * *

They used to be partners, in the beginning, before the shift as they know it came to be.

Before Crosetti came in from the western district and Felton came in from wherever he'd been, it had been the two of them, and they were damn good at what they did. They still are, though, admittedly, they're a lot more jaded.

Now, things have changed between them considerably to the point where they're where they are right now, both of them well aware of the department's rules about fraternization and neither of them really caring.

"We'd be so screwed if anyone could see us now," says Kay, sounding highly amused by this. "They'd rotate us both in a heartbeat."

Meldrick laughs. "Yeah, they probably would," he replies, and then, "It bothers you that Gee doesn't know who's leaving in the morning, doesn't it?"

She sighs. "Yeah, it bothers me," she admits, without actually looking at him. "I hate to think of losing you guys."

It is something that Meldrick has the feeling that she wouldn't admit to anyone else, and so he says nothing, waiting. After a moment, she continues.

"I don't wanna think about losing you, either."

* * *

If he is surprised by this, he doesn't let it show. Kay watches him intently for a long moment after she says this, and wonders if maybe it was the wrong thing to say.

"I'm not going anywhere," Meldrick tells her, completely serious now. "At least, not in the personal sense."

It's completely ridiculous, because technically, they really shouldn't be here like this, because he's separated, not really divorced, and they both came to the mutual decision that they wouldn't.

Kay finds it incredibly stupid how something like this could rattle them enough that they ended up here, even though they haven't done anything, mostly because they're too distracted and it's too damn hot, but still. At the same time, she isn't particularly surprised that they were shaken by this, and has the feeling if they were with other members of the shift, they would not be the only ones.

"Maybe we ought to go someplace," she says, finally, uncomfortably now that guilt has settled over her. "The Waterfront, maybe."

He knows exactly what she's doing, but nods, anyway, and reaches down for the shirt that he only discarded because it was too hot to keep it on.

* * *

A few minutes later, they are walking outside.

"I hate the uncertainty, y'know?" Kay asks, as they make their way towards the Waterfront. "I hate not knowing what's going to happen."

Shift begins in less than eight hours. At the rate they're going, neither of them are going to get any sleep because of their thoughts on this.

"Just like the brass, ain't it?" Meldrick asks. "Always gotta be interrupting where they got no business being."

Kay nods, briefly, in reply, knowing that they will come to the same point over and over again if they keep going.

"It doesn't make any sense," she says. "Why interrupt a good thing?"

"Maybe they don't think it's a good thing. Could be they think the lot of us are getting too close."

Kay snorts. "Right. Close enough that we didn't know Felton was undercover, had no idea Pembleton was even at risk for having a stroke…we're real close, Meldrick."

* * *

Her sarcasm isn't at all lost on him. They continue walking, and he does not answer, because there is nothing for him to say.

"Close enough," he says. "That's all that matters. We're close enough to know when something's wrong, and that's enough."

But it's not. It's never enough. And it figures that they would all be interrupted right when things finally started to fall into place, by Felton's death.

It figures that the two of them would have been interrupted by Kay's reluctance to get so involved, and by Meldrick's reluctance to wait.

And it figures that right when the shift was starting to figure out their own lives and the way they were, that they would be interrupted by a new department policy that none of them care for.

In the morning, there will be new faces in Homicide. In the morning, some of the old faces will be gone.

In the aftermath of their own interruptions, there is anger, hurt, confusion, fury…all of the things they can deal with.

But in the aftermath of the department's interruptions, there is, for both of them, only the feeling of being lost.


End file.
